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ALBERT   ALONZO   ROBINSON 


A  MEMORIAL  SKETCH 

WRITTEN  FOR  HIS  FRIENDS,  WITH 

INCIDENTS  AND  TRIBUTES 


a.:b>.W. 


BOSTON 

The  Griffith- Stillings  Press 
1919 


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VV 


•  •  •     • 

;/: :  : 


•V. :  :•':  •.'.•**/I* •    •  •*•  *' 


. .  - . -.• 


ALBERT  ALONZO   ROBINSON 

MEMORIAL     SKETCH 
By  A.B.W. 

The  many  friends  of  Mr.  A.  A.  Robinson,  of 
Topeka,  Kansas,  will  miss  his  New  Year's  greeting. 
He  had  an  instinct  for  friendship,  and  his  friends 
were  his  treasures.  It  was  characteristic  of  the 
delicacy  of  his  friendliness,  that  in  whatever 
stress  of  fatigue  or  anxiety  the  holiday  season 
found  him,  he  insisted  upon  writing  our  names 
with  his  own  hand.  Alone  he  went  through  his 
book  of  addresses,  and  thought  of  each  of  us  as 
his  pen  traced  the  name.  Today  all  of  us  are  re- 
calling him :  his  masterful  and  blameless  character; 
his  constructive  and  eventful  life;  and  we  are 
making  grateful  appraisal  of  his  many  ways  of 
enriching  us.  The  world  has  had  many  men  of 
genius  whose  ambition  and  self-emphasis  helped 
them  to  a  great  fame.  It  has  had  but  few  men  of 
complete  self-effacement  coupled  with  colossal 
ability.  The  latter  would  elude  us  but  for  their 
achievements.  Albert  Robinson  is  in  this  silent  class. 
When  death  comes,  instantly  we  feel  the  impact 
and  weight  of  a  character.  Letters  of  condolence 
always  show  unanimity  of  impression.  In  this 
instance,   phrases  like  these  were  repeated  over 

[  I  ] 

416425       ' 


^-^  -^^^'^^    :ALBERT.  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

and  over:  "I  named  my  son  for  him."  "He 
moulded  my  character  and  my  career."  "From 
childhood  I  carried  him  in  a  niche  of  my  heart 
because  his  personality  was  unique."  "I  worked 
with  him  thirty  years.  The  most  conscientious 
man  in  his  personal  life,  the  most  capable  man  in 
his  official  character,  I  have  ever  seen."  "He 
was  always  the  model  for  us  in  the  '  Old  Control. ' 
He  was  always  the  ideal." 

The  great  war  has  changed  us,  even  our  vocabu- 
lary is  different.  He  suffered  with  the  rest  of  the 
world,  and  when  the  last  German  drive  hurled  its 
torments  upon  us,  he  was  greatly  agitated.  The  woe 
followed  him  into  his  intermittent  delirium.  Once 
he  waved  his  wasted  hand,  and  his  voice  rang 
out  strong  once  more:  ^^  That  thing  is  wrong,  and 
it  must  he  righted /^^  Through  the  letters  of  his 
friends  to  Mrs.  Robinson  we  find  reiterated 
the  phrase,  "How  glad  we  are  that  he  lived  to  see 
the  victory  of  the  Allies."  During  the  last  sad 
weeks,  his  beautiful  little  grand-daughter  Ellen 
Catherine  was  the  light  of  his  eyes.  Each  day 
she  laid  her  baby  self  beside  him,  crooning  her 
joy  and  loving  his  face. 

Albert  Alonzo  Robinson  was  born  at  South 
Reading,  Vermont,  of  New  England  ancestry, 
October  21,  1844.  The  name  of  Robinson 
is  a  proud  one.  He  was  the  son  of  Ebenezer 
Robinson,  Jr.,  and  Adeline  Williams.  His  father 
was    schoolmaster,    carpenter,    farmer,    and    his 

[2] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

hands  were  subtle  and  cunning.  When  Albert 
was  three  years  old  his  father  died  of  typhoid 
fever.  The  little  son  always  remembered  being 
carried  to  see  his  dead  father.  His  mother  v/as 
capable,  handsome,  and  greatly  beloved.  Her 
family  of  four  children  were  a  lifelong  joy,  and 
the  children  kept  their  serious  and  industrious 
home  life  a  treasured  memory.  As  a  child  Albert 
was  extremely  shy  and  sensitive.  He  was  a  silent 
boy,  an  ambitious  student,  and  a  tireless  worker. 
Like  his  two  gifted  brothers,  when  the  time  came 
for  college,  he  assumed  his  own  expenses  —  he 
worked  his  way  through.  All  three  brothers 
became  civil  engineers,  and  the  two  older  ones 
college  professors.  The  second  son,  Stillman 
Robinson  (a  gay  and  mischievous  lad),  in  addi- 
tion to  his  classroom  labors  became  a  distin- 
guished inventor.^ 

These  Robinson  brothers  were  a  brilliant  trio. 
Tradition  says  their  personal  gentleness  was  al- 

*A  certain  shoe  machine  company  holds  forty-eight  of  Stillman 
Robinson's  patents.  His  whole  life  is  a  tale  of  steady  drudgery  and 
achievement.  Files  of  class-room  and  examination  papers  corrected 
by  his  own  hand;  Sabbaths  devoted  to  coaching  his  "lame  ducks," 
for  he  would  not  have  his  daily  recitations  spoiled  by  intellectual 
slovens,  so  to  save  his  best  students  he  drilled  his  worst  ones. 
Often  his  nights  were  spent  in  solving  intricate  engineering  problems 
constantly  submitted  to  his  department,  also  in  disentangling 
railroad  responsibilities  for  the  safety  of  the  public.  His  practised 
technical  knowledge  foretold  the  Ashtabula  disaster,  and  he  warned 
the  railroad  against  it.  From  his  home  in  Columbus,  Ohio,  he 
planned  the  mountings  and  foundation  of  the  Lick  Observatory. 
Freely  he  served  his  city,  his  university,  and  the  public. 

[3  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

ways  more  astonishing  than  their  genius.  Certain 
it  is  that  young  Albert  Robinson  immediately 
attracted  the  personal  interest  of  his  college 
president,  who  secured  for  him  a  position  as 
assistant  in  the  United  States  Surveys.  He  was 
employed  about  five  months  of  the  year  in  astrono- 
mical field  work,  and  in  triangulation  of  the  Great 
Lakes.  By  acquiring  telegraphy  he  earned  the 
salary  of  an  operator,  and  also  became  expert 
with  the  heliograph.  Work  was  terrific.  The  route 
lay  through  a  primeval  jungle  of  curious  juniper, 
along  the  northern  shores  of  Lake  Superior, 
where  no  human  foot  had  penetrated.  (Indians 
find  easier  trails.)  The  matted  tangle  of  juniper 
was  shoulder  high,  often  above  their  heads, 
through  which  every  inch  of  the  way  must  be 
cut.  Packhorses  stumbled  over  the  gnarled  surface 
roots,  and  the  hoary  tangle  resisted  their  axes  like 
teak-wood,  while  myriads  of  sand-flies  and  great 
"green-bottles"  drove  the  beasts  to  frenzy.  They 
kicked  all  the  time.  They  kicked  each  other. 
They  kicked  their  masters.  The  men  worked  and 
slept  with  gloves  and  veils,  but  were  always  stung, 
and  their  throats  kept  swollen  even  with  their 
chins.  But  the  government  survey  pushed  through 
on  schedule  time.  Another  assistant  wrote  home, 
"This  living  wire  juniper  stuff,  centuries  old,  is 
tough  enough  to  tear  us  all  limb  from  limb,  men 
and  beasts  alike."  It  was  Robinson's  habit  to 
have  books  on  botany  in  his  pack.    In  that  fantas- 

[  4] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

tic  wilderness  he  found  queer  mosses,  and  weird, 
orchid-like  plants  uncatalogued.  He  preserved 
specimens  and  sent  them  to  Asa  Gray.  It  is 
remembered  that  he  spent  his  evenings  slapping 
venomous  insects  with  his  pocket  handkerchief, 
and  with  the  other  hand  making  herbaria  and 
fastidious  memoranda  for  the  Harvard  botani- 
cal laboratories.  There  is  a  fellowship  between 
men  of  genius,  and  in  good  time  their  friendships, 
which  bind  the  earth,  are  worth  all  they  cost.  These 
groups  of  unclassified  flora  from  the  waste  regions 
of  the  Great  Lakes  introduced  our  young  scientist 
to  a  choice  company;  and  throughout  a  long  life 
he  was  associated  with  great  specialists  at  home 
and  in  Europe. 

When  Mr.  Robinson  won  his  graduation  degree 
at  Ann  Arbor,  he  was  alarmingly  thin,  and  those 
who  loved  him  best  cried  out,  "Oh,  you  weigh 
less  than  your  bones!"  So  heavy  was  the  toll 
of  burdens  and  honors!  Happily  his  body  was 
always  a  magnificent  instrument,  and  life  with 
chain  and  compass,  in  open  tents,  with  the  taste 
of  success,  gradually  restored  his  health.  A  spell 
was  in  the  air.  The  civil  war  was  finished,  and 
days  of  expansion  had  come.  A  period  of  empire 
building  was  just  beginning.  There  were  dreams, 
and  they  were  charged  with  dynamic  energy. 
Great  sums  of  money  were  pledged.  Railroads 
were  to  cross  the  Great  American  Desert,  and 
ardent  young  spirits  snuffed  the  future  from  afar, 

[  5  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

and  out  to  the  skyline  went  the  workers, — men  of 
the  severest  training;  men  with  skill  and  daring; 
achieving  men.  "But  we  had  such  a  splendid 
time;  and  these  plains,  how  I  love  them,  they  are 
a  part  of  my  life,"  so  once  spoke  Robinson  as  he 
gazed  out  of  his  car  window.  You  longed  to  ask 
questions,  but  the  currents  of  his  life  were  always 
deep  and  silent,  like  his  own  canyons,  so  you 
contented  yourself  in  watching  his  face  grow 
tender  and  reminiscent.  Was  he  thinking  of 
galloping  with  his  friends  at  nightfall  back 
to  camp,  merry  and  black  as  minstrels  with 
cinders  from  the  fire-swept  prairies;  or  was  it 
freshets,  quicksands,  whirling  dust  storms,  that 
he  remembered  ^  Perhaps  he  was  thinking  of  the 
buffaloes  —  the  unbelievable  hordes  of  rollicking, 
snorting,  pounding,  thirst-driven  creatures,  rush- 
ing from  wallow  to  wallow,  or  was  climbing  to 
mountain  tops  searching  for  the  telltale  signs 
of  the  watersheds.  New  cities  and  terminals 
must  not  be  on  the  wrong  side,  else  they  will  be 
exterminated  by  the  first  cloud-burst  or  cyclone. 
Was  he  outwitting  vagabond  rivers,  those  that 
lie  on  the  top  of  the  ground  without  any  banks  ? 
They  are  east  of  the  camp  at  night,  and  flow  west 
of  the  camp  in  the  morning,  spoiling  square 
miles  of  fair  pasturage.       ^ 

There  were  many  discouragements.  Indian  and 
outlaw  lurked  near  isolated  encampments,  and  men 
were  armed  to  the  teeth,  but  horses  and  supplies 

[  6] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

sometimes  disappeared.  Capitalists  were  com- 
plaining of  delays.  There  was  constant  exaspera- 
tion. Once  it  was  over  the  obliteration  of  prelimi- 
nary surveys.  As  camps  shifted,  the  line  of  stakes 
waving  their  red  flannel  flags  to  outline  the  cryptic 
maps  of  exploration,  would  be  found  prostrate. 
Not  a  single  stake  could  keep  its  position,  and  the 
toil  of  weeks  must  be  repeated.  No  one  could 
trace  the  culprits.  Robinson  found  that  the  mis- 
chief was  always  wrought  in  moonlight.  Some 
localities  would  be  constantly  robbed.  He  selected 
the  worst  place  and  watched.  From  the  hot 
hills  came  a  procession  of  antelopes  in  single 
file,  silent  and  ceremonious  as  nuns,  and  daintily 
nipped  away  each  fragment  of  flannel  and  worried 
every  stake  to  the  ground.    They  were  at  play. 

The  rainless  days  were  too  short  for  these  gal- 
lant horsemen.  Early  they  were  out  scouring  the 
horizon,  selecting  the  loveliest  valleys  for  the 
railroad  patji.  They  knew  how  to  find  them.  Gay 
hearts  had  escorted  wayward  rivers  to  their 
sources,  and  discovered  the  breaks  and  gaps  among 
piled  up  peaks,  where  water  has  performed  her 
sublime  miracles  and  opened  shadowy  vistas 
for  the  world's  traffic.  Fearing  no  evil,  they 
welcomed  jokes  and  dangers.  Scouts  they  were; 
scholars,  and  gentlemen.  Their  youth  accepted 
the  challenge  to  subdue  a  continent,  and  they 
toiled  like  soldiers  under  arms.  Quivering,  blistering 
heat  must  bleach  the  color  from  their  eyes.    Horses 

[  7  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

must  ford  streams  foaming  with  a  succession  of 
rapids,  and  they  must  not  stumble  over  burrows 
and  tussocks  of  the  prairie.  Neither  must  they 
sHp  on  snow-powdered  barrens.  The  sound  of 
crackling,  settling  ice,  or  the  wash  of  whirlpools 
must  not  bring  panic  to  faithful  brutes.  Together 
man  and  beast  often  must  sleep  in  the  open, 
perhaps  near  mines,  or  coal  beds,  or  oil  fields. 
When  tempests  like  Genii  beat  them  down,  again 
they  were  off  and  away,  ransacking  the  West 
for  its  secrets  and  treasure.  What  are  frosts  or 
thirst  or  hunger  to  men  like  these?  It  is  the  epic 
life  of  empire  builders.  The  excitement  of  ex- 
ploration was  better  borne  than  the  monotony  of 
track  laying,  and  galling  drudgery  broke  the  courage 
of  stout  men.  One  of  his  company  remembers  the 
awakening  of  the  camp  each  morning,  by  the 
hoofs  of  the  Robinson  horse  taking  the  chief  down 
the  tent  line  to  the  tracks,  where  he  inspected  the 
previous  day's  work.  Every  unlucky  tie  had  to 
be  "fixed."  After  breakfast  he  was  ahead  of  the 
advance  parties,  always  cheerful  and  more  at- 
tentive to  the  comfort  of  the  men  than  to  his  own. 
Many  incidents  are  related  of  those  early  days. 

One  summer,  in  the  hot  lands  of  Arizona,  a  vine 
climbed  his  tent  pole  and  unfurled  a  great  disk  of 
color  like  a  morning-glory.  It  was  thrilling,  because 
not  a  dot  of  green  trembled  in  the  sun  from 
camp  to  mirage.  Nothing  moved  but  whirlpools 
of  dust  in  puffs  of  heat.     Every  morning  a  new 

[  8  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

blossom  appeared  like  a  comedian  to  lord  it  over 
the  alkali  desert.  Through  the  breathless  forenoon 
and  high  midday  it  burned  from  rose  to  royal 
purple.  Its  bodyguard  of  polished  leaves  glistened 
with  dew.  At  five  in  the  afternoon  it  folded  itself. 
Our  botanists  traced  this  witch-plant  into  the 
sweet-potato  family,  and  could  take  it  no  further. 
Mr.  Robinson  began  to  dig  nights  to  look  at  the 
roots,  but  apparently  there  was  only  a  slender 
stem  leading  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth.  Finally 
he  came  to  a  huge  wooden  bulk,  like  an  over- 
turned tree  stump,  and  when  it  was  split  open,  out 
gushed  pure  water.  The  bonnie  goblin  had 
secreted  for  itself  a  cistern  below  the  line  of  evapo- 
ration. It  went  to  Asa  Gray  and  got  a  long  bio- 
graphical, unpronounceable  name.  But  the  im- 
portant point  was  the  intimacy  established  between 
the  two  men.  Those  were  not  Burbank  days. 
Government  experiment  stations  were  scarcely 
begun,  but  at  Harvard,  Science  had  patient  slaves, 
and  to  them,  too,  the  West  was  a  flaming  prophecy. 
They  knew  the  buffalo  was  doomed.  Those 
giddy,  restless  freebooters  must  relinquish  their 
grazing  grounds  to  corn  and  wheat.  How  long 
had  their  sharp  hoofs  kept  the  soil  loose  and  sterile 
as  they  stampeded  from  east  to  west,  from  north 
to  south,  like  the  indefatigable  tides  of  the  sea. 
Grass  must  be  found  strong  enough  to  hold  down 
the  tossing  sand  in  spite  of  scorching,  tormenting 
wind;  grass  persistent  and  vital  to  undermine  sage- 

[9] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

brush  and  cacti,  to  supplant  the  wild  herds  and  make 
the  earth  ready  for  harvest.  Was  it  to  be  the  coarse, 
heavy  variety  that  saved  the  sand  dunes  of  Holland, 
or  must  it  be  the  more  fragile  species  from  arid 
Syria?  Was  it  the  old  tufted  pampas  grass  from 
South  America?  Asa  Gray  sent  Mr.  Robinson 
specimens  to  plant  and  observe.  You  can  see  him 
on  his  knees  with  his  magnifying  glass  examining 
the  roots  to  see  which  kind  kept  the  strongest  fibers 
under  the  novel  conditions  of  the  American  Desert. 
When  found,  the  sturdiest  root  had  to  come  from 
South  Africa.  The  railroad  builders  scattered 
the  seed  from  their  saddles  when  they  went  to 
toil,  to  hunt,  to  reconnoitre.  It  was  dropped 
wherever  they  passed.  It  was  with  the  wheat 
from  these  vast  reclaimed  deserts  that  the  Allies 
were  fed  during  the  great  war.^ 

A  dreary  winter  was  spent  in  the  basin  of  the 
Red  River.  The  survey  was  almost  complete 
when  an  instrument  gave  out.  The  question 
arose  whether  time  could  be  saved  by  repairing 

*Just  this  side  of  the  "bad  lands"  Mr.  Robinson  pointed  to  a 
violet-tinted  mesa,  and  asked,  "Can  you  see  those  streaks  of  green 
along  the  cracks  in  those  cliffs?"  I  was  just  able  to  discern  them. 
"The  soil  is  very  thin  out  there,"  he  said,  "but  the  grass  is  getting 
ahead.  It  grows  hardy  as  it  gets  up.  It  advances  about  a  foot  in  a 
year.  But  sometime  it  will  manage  to  go  over  the  top  and  down 
the  other  side  until  it  reaches  the  black  lava  beds."  Instinctively 
my  eye  measured  the  distance  between  the  railroad  bed  this  man 
had  laid  and  the  dim  margin  of  the  mesa  and  realized  that  a  genera- 
tion ago  he  had  found  time  to  plant  that  "gift-bearing  grass"  in  the 
volcanic  sand.     And  there  it  is  getting  on. 

[    lO] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

the  damage,  or  whether  a  duplicate  must  be  sent 
from  a  distant  city.  Mr.  Robinson  decided  to 
undertake  the  restoration.  He  remembered  a 
forge  a  day's  gallop  away  where  there  was  steel 
and  a  clever  blacksmith.  The  crust  would  not 
hold  up  a  horse  through  the  day,  but  at  night  a 
rider  was  safe  enough.  The  moon  was  full,  and 
he  started,  with  a  loaded  revolver  of  small  caliber, 
but  without  extra  bullets.  With  the  blacksmith's 
assistance  he  forged  a  new  cylinder  with  ease, 
and  struck  the  homeward  trail  in  high  spirits. 
A  couple  of  hours  sped  away,  when  he  began  to 
hear  the  musical  sound  of  wolves.  The  call  of 
the  leading  wolves  for  their  packs  is  high  falsetto 
—  they  are  answered  in  lower  key.  It  is  their 
habit  to 'hunt  in  small  packs  of  from  five  to  twelve, 
and  he  became  aware  that  they  were  coming  from 
every  direction  and  that  soon  they  would  appear 
on  the  horizon  in  numbers  that  could  not  be 
computed.  His  horse  shuddered  and  stopped. 
He  would  back  and  plunge,  but  he  would  not 
go  forward.  The  rider  was  without  a  whip; 
his  right  hand  steadying  his  instrument  from  too 
heavy  jarring.  He  dismounted  and  eased  the  bit, 
braided  the  forelocks  out  of  eyes  that  would  never 
need  to  see  so  clearly  again.  He  tightened  the 
girths,  screwed  his  spurs,  and  mounted.  Could 
he  start  that  horse?  It  was  his  own  mount, 
and  he  spoke  the  word,  and  off  they  went!  Now 
the  wolves  were  facing  him.     They  seemed  like 

[  II  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

a  moving  fog  coming  to  envelop  him.  When 
they  came  so  near  that  he  saw  their  frosted  breath, 
the  horse  stopped.  Then  the  wolves  stopped. 
They  were  the  gray  timber  wolves.  The  snow 
was  white;  the  horse  was  white;  the  moon  was 
white.  There  was  a  deep  blue  shadow  of  horse 
and  rider.  The  wolves  began  to  examine  the 
shadow  in  groups;  and  then  went  back  to  rejoin 
their  fellows.  Gradually  the  mass  divided,  most 
of  them  going  on  the  right  side  in  company  with 
the  shadow,  leaving  a  path  which  the  horse  was 
quick  to  see.  On  they  went  —  the  horse  and  rider 
with  the  shadow,  and  the  wolves  racing  on  the 
shadow  side.  As  the  horse  began  to  stumble 
and  quiver,  the  rider  stopped.  And  the  wolves 
stopped.  When  the  horse  had  rested  they  went 
onward  together,  the  creatures  intoning  and 
howling.  They  never  crowded  nearer  than  the 
shadow.  With  the  instinct  of  the  hunter  the 
rider  began  to  realize  that  the  wolves  were  at 
play  like  the  antelopes,  and  his  danger  would 
be  in  the  fall  of  his  horse.  After  reaching  camp, 
it  was  ascertained  that  higher  up  the  Red  River 
herds  of  wild  cattle  had  drifted  with  the  terrible 
storm  and  were  held  on  its  banks  by  the  surging 
current.  There  they  were  followed  by  the  wolves 
and  the  wolves  had  gorged  themselves.  Now  they 
were  out  with  the  glee  of  exercise  and  adventure. 

In  the  pestilential  marshes  of  the  lower  Missouri 
River,  where  the  climate  is  well  nigh  insupport- 

[  12  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

able,  a  levee  was  to  be  built.  Marshes  were  to  be 
drained  and  a  roadbed  laid.  When  Mr.  Robinson 
went  to  take  the  contract,  he  found  himself 
supported  by  gangs  of  Poles,  underfed,  under- 
sized, tubercular,  fit  only  for  quarantine.  The 
government  inspection  of  immigration  was  slack 
in  those  days.  He  was  apprehensive,  and  his 
impulse  was  to  throw  up  the  contract.  But 
time  is  urgent  with  a  great  builder.  The  men 
were  quarrelsome,  insubordinate,  and  homesick. 
When  a  paymaster  disappeared  with  many 
thousands  of  dollars  due  them  for  wages,  they 
imagined  themselves  defrauded.  Fevered  with 
malaria,  bewildered  with  misery,  they  attacked 
the  tents  of  their  overseers  at  night.  Robinson, 
with  a  revolver  in  each  hand,  in  nightclothes, 
went  out  to  the  yelling  mob  of  madmen.  They 
had  come  for  him  with  ropes  and  gibbet.  He 
spoke  a  few  syllables  of  their  patois  and  they 
were  induced  to  disperse.  What  is  there  in  a 
man's  soul  that  thus  quells  a  mutiny?  Often 
he  was  to  be  in  riots  and  mobs. 

From  the  power  to  crush  mutiny  up  to  one 
that  conquers  nature,  is  but  an  ascending  step. 
Nature  is  a  hard  master.  Her  splendors  and  her 
obstacles  give  different  moods  to  different  minds. 
Some  they  will  depress;  others  they  will  inspire. 
Grandeur  and  unchartered  solitudes  may  produce 
dejection  and  irritation  among  the  weakUngs  in 
a  camp  outfit.    Nostalgia  appears  even  in  men  of 

[  13  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

full  vitality.  To  other  souls  there  comes  In- 
tellectual stimulus  —  a  consciousness  of  power 
almost  ecstatic.  Humboldt  tells  about  it  as 
he  faced  world  wonders  everywhere.  Agasslz 
out  among  the  Ice  masses  of  Switzerland,  tolled 
In  a  transport  of  delight,  and  the  work  under 
his  hands  flew  as  with  wings.  Darwin  was  like 
a  magnet  drawing  everything  that  grew  every- 
where into  the  science  In  which  his  soul  reveled. 
Albert  Robinson  had  the  quality  of  that  high 
company.  Nature's  wonders  and  obstacles  so 
kindled  his  great  nature,  so  released  his  rich 
native  endowment,  that  he  worked  with  the 
ease  of  a  magician.  He  was  heard  to  say:  "I 
loved  it.  We  were  all  of  us  opening  up  our  own 
country;  every  man  doing  his  utmost;  each  one 
serving,  to  the  last  boy  in  the  pack  trains.  I 
could  not  help  seeing  the  right  way  for  things  to 
be  done.  I  seemed  to  work  with  my  heart  instead 
of  with  my  head.  I  ought  never  to  be  praised." 
The  cup  of  life  to  him  was  not  a  drug  nor  a  fatality: 
it  was  elixir,  a  daily  restorer,  that  kept  him 
immune  while  other  men  around  him  burnt  out. 
Through  arduous  years  he  maintained  his  pro- 
digious labors.  It  is  thus  that  we  account  for  his 
name  being  associated  with  the  great  engineering 
feats  of  his  generation. 

He  built  more  miles  of  railroad  than  any  other 
man.  The  speed  with  which  he  constructed  his 
road  when  It  was  extended  to  the  Chicago  Termi- 

[  14] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

nal,  without  mistake  or  loss  of  harmony  among  his 
army  of  workmen,  has  never  been  duplicated. 
He  bridged  the  Des  Moines,  Illinois,  and  Grand 
Rivers,  also  many  considerable  streams;  the  Mis- 
souri, with  its  shifting  bottom,  and  the  mighty 
Mississippi,  all  in  less  than  a  year.  But  among 
engineers,  the  bridge  that  opened  the  Royal 
Gorge  of  the  Arkansas  best  shows  the  originality 
and  power  of  his  genius. 

Where  the  walls  of  the  precipice  are  sheer  for 
three  thousand  feet,  and  the  menacing  cut  is 
a  narrow  rock  gate  filled  by  the  torrential  river, 
there  he  swung  his  bridge.  Not  a  footpath  was 
possible  through  the  jaws  of  that  gorge;  but  he 
thrust  a  bridge  and  its  railroad  between  them. 
It  hangs  twenty-five  hundred  feet  from  the  top 
of  the  cliff,  held  by  great  steel  girders  mortised 
into  the  rock  wall.  There  it  is  suspended,  five 
hundred  feet  above  the  flood!  A  magical  link 
it  is,  two  hundred  feet  long,  between  the  roadbeds 
east  and  west  of  the  chasm.  It  opens  to  commerce 
a  vast  country  of  surpassing  richness,  and  to 
throngs  of  wondering  tourists  exhibits  a  marvel 
of  engineering.  No  railroad  in  the  world  runs 
through  so  deep  a  canyon.  His  bridge  is  the  delight 
of  every  consummate  engineer.  The  principle 
of  its  construction  has  been  seized  upon  to  meet 
lesser  emergent  difficulties  in  Peace  and  in  War^ 

*In  recent  Balkan  warfare  arms  of  oak  were  substituted  for  the 
steel  levers  in  bridging  the  many  gorges,  chasms,  and  fissures. 

[  IS  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

as  well  as  to  compass  vast  engineering  enterprises 
everywhere.  The  heavy  shadows  of  the  Gorge 
make  photographic  representation  inadequate; 
but  some  day  Joseph  Pennell  will  etch  the  wonder 
of  that  bridge.  At  any  rate,  Robinson  solved 
the  marvel  and  mystery  of  the  Royal  Gorge.  It 
is  like  romance  to  hear  of  the  triumphant  survey 
made  upon  the  ice  after  the  baffled  engineers  of 
rival  roads  had  abandoned  the  Gorge  as  hopeless; 
of  the  strenuous  warfare  and  protracted  litigation 
which  accompanied  and  followed  the  creation  of 
that  bridge,  and  the  final  mad  midnight  race  of 
Robinson's  engineers  to  hold  it.  Thus  they  won 
the  "Celebrated  Case." 

When  the  steel  track  had  been  carried  from 
Chicago  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  on  again 
to  the  Pacific  Coast,  Robinson  began  his  career 
as  a  railroad  manager. 

The  task  of  an  administrator  is  spent  under 
grilling  care.  Also  life  on  the  great  plains  is 
heavy  with  responsibility;  but  sleep  **Out  There" 
becomes  delicious  and  potent.  In  the  open  air,  it 
is  thin  and  light,  and  the  sun-baked  earth  acts  like 
a  sounding  board  for  the  soft-footed  night  sounds. 
But  the  nights  restore  a  man's  buoyancy  for  the 
bright  days.  There  is  game,  and  migration  of 
birds.  In  the  springtime  there  are  flowers  and 
nests;  but  men  who  manage  the  business  of  rail- 
roads wear  an  iron  yoke.  The  sense  of  human 
life  at  the  mercy  of  steel  and  timber  is  ever  with 

[  i6  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

them,  like  an  added  faculty.  The  hiss  of  competi- 
tion; the  swirl  and  noise  of  traffic,  in  all  its  com- 
plexity and  detail,  eat  like  acid.  Capital  expects 
dividends.  Labor  must  be  paid,  and  every  day  is 
a  grapple.  Lucky  is  a  great  corporation  like  the 
Santa  Fe  when  its  general  manager  is  beloved 
all  down  the  ranks.  He  deals  with  men  at  their 
best  and  worst,  and  he  must  rule  with  irresistible 
discipline.  It  was  good  to  hear  of  Mr.  Robinson 
when  some  one  winced  under  him,  "Yes,  but 
he  is  such  a  splendid  gentleman  —  what  man 
was  ever  better  set  up?"  He  was  always  the 
Chief,  never  the  "Boss."  The  ability  successfully 
to  deal  with  men  was  instinctive.  He  controlled 
men  in  masses,  in  committees,  offices,  and  boards; 
in  repair  shops,  power  plants,  stockyards,  and 
mines.  He  knew  all  kinds  of  men;  juggling 
financiers,  ponderous  capitalists,  corrupt  freight 
agents,  venal  contractors,  lobbyists.  A  railroad 
system  must  have  hospitals,  banks,  oil  wells, 
rolling  stock,  refrigerator  trains,  mail  cars,  city 
properties,  rich  timber  lands,  and  elemental  re- 
sources which  would  baffle  all  but  the  initiated. 
Everywhere  there  must  be  loyalty  and  efficiency. 
For  years  he  swung  from  altitude  to  altitude, 
buying,  selling,  commanding,  investigating,  keep- 
ing ahead  of  his  own  success,  searching  always 
and  everywhere  for  men,  —  the  men  who  could 
be  trusted  with  public  safety.  So  litigations 
claimed  him,  and  accidents.     There  were  heart- 

[  17] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

breaking  mistakes  among  directors  and  officials. 
There  was  corruption,  but  he  was  incorruptible. 
His  own  learned  and  laborious  life  flowed  on. 
No  secret  bloodhound  guilt  ever  tracked  down 
his  spirit.  Crime  is  shy,  and  he  was  a  man  to 
fear. 

Mr.  Robinson  had  been  married  in  1869  after 
an  engagement  of  eight  years  to  Julia  Caroline 
Burdick,  in  Edgerton,  Wisconsin.  She  was  a 
teacher,  and  their  intimacy  began  when  they  were 
schoolmates.  She  lived  until  August,  1881,  leaving 
an  only  child,  Metta  Burdick  Robinson,  a  delicate 
little  girl,  who  has  become  Mrs.  Glenwood  E.  Jones. 
In  1885  Mr.  Robinson  was  married  to  Mrs. 
Ellen  Burdick  Williams,  a  sister  of  the  first  wife, 
who  still  survives  him.  The  hospitality  of  their 
home  in  Topeka  is  well  known,  and  through  the 
years  Mr.  Robinson  operated  the  roads  he  had 
built,  there  passed  through  his  doors  many  social 
types.  Because  of  his  fame  as  a  civil  engineer 
he  was  summoned  to  sit  in  the  councils  of  the 
European  Cabinets,  and  twice  a  year  he  went 
over  the  seas.  What  compensations  reached  him 
from  those  continental  discussions  upon  Conser- 
vation, Restoration,  Construction! 

When  from  success,  and  assured  position  in 
his  own  country,  he  turned  his  face  to  Mexico, 
his  friends  were  surprised  that  he  chose  to  spend 
the  rich  years  of  his  maturity  among  that  turbulent 
people,  yet  no  one  better  knew  the  vast  resources 

[  i8  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

of  that  country.  He  had  confidence  in  himself, 
and  confidence  that  the  distraught  and  tragic 
nation  would  not  always  be  false  to  its  own 
physical  geography  and  its  own  future.  The  man 
of  granite,  Diaz,  implacable,  unapproachable, 
severe,  and  Robinson,  patient,  with  suppressed 
passion  and  conviction,  became  excellent  friends. 
Together  they  worked  for  thirteen  years  for  im- 
proved sanitation  and  reforms,  until  the  railroad 
was  taken  over  by  the  government.  There  was 
always  the  landlord,  the  Spanish  grandee.  Peon 
and  patriot  alike  were  exasperated  to  the  point 
of  insurrection,  and  every  class  suffered  from  the 
menace  of  chronic  disorder.  However,  among 
many  responsibilities,  he  was  able  to  serve  the 
native  industries.  They  needed  protection  from 
exploitation  by  European  capitalists.  His  trans- 
atlantic friendships  were  invaluable  during  that 
agitation.  Lord  Curzon,  with  Sir  Ernest  Castle, 
and  other  English  stockholders  of  his  road,  became 
interested  to  correct  injustice  and  abuse  and  the 
ubiquitous  robbery  of  mines  and  exports.  Ann 
Arbor,  his  beloved  Alma  Mater,  in  recognition  of 
his  successful  service  during  that  critical  period, 
honored  him  with  its  highest  tribute  —  the  degree 
of  LL.D.  He  always  loved  Mexico  and  believed 
in  her  ultimate  destiny.  Her  patriots  trusted  him. 
Banks  and  embassies  eagerly  assisted  his  projects. 
Popularizing  disputed  reforms  among  ignorant,  re- 
luctant populations  is  costly,  but  he  was  generous. 

[  19  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

His  private  car  was  the  vehicle  of  an  abound- 
ing hospitality  throughout  his  railroad  life.  The 
guests  on  his  trains  hardly  suspected  the  power 
of  his  energy.  He  was  still,  imperturbable, 
absorbed  with  his  enthusiasms.  A  Spanish 
grammar  was  his  vade  mecum.  Yet  a  road  super- 
intendent insisted  that  "he  eyed  every  rail  of  the 
track.  We  all  believe  he  would  like  nothing  better 
than  to  feel  of  every  spike.  His  eyes  discover 
every  pick  and  shovel  we  leave  out,  and  they  find 
the  man  who  forgot  them."  With  characteristic 
thrift  and  self-devotion  he  corrected  an  inaccurate 
survey  with  his  own  hand,  a  matter  of  laborious 
months,  to  save  his  company  $40,000,  the  price 
of  a  new  survey.  He  had  developed  two  principal 
harbors,  one  at  Tampico,  on  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
and  Manzanillo,  on  the  Pacific  coast.  He  con- 
nected them  by  a  line  over  a  mountain  range 
said  to  be  impassable  to  railroads.  He  was  older 
and  heavier,  though  again  he  must  be  in  the 
saddle.  This  pitiless  labor  in  the  high,  tropical 
altitudes,  over  uneroded  precipices,  together  with 
the  blunders  of  subordinates,  brought  the  first 
symptoms  of  serious  illness.  But  he  had  found  the 
great  pass  over  the  range,  the  Sierra  Madre ! 

Mr.  Robinson  was  a  man  of  military  type  — 
laconic,  reserved,  accustomed  to  a  self-discipline 
of  monastic  austerity.  Underneath  his  distin- 
guished bearing  were  hidden  sympathy  and  tender- 
ness beyond  telling.     Every  one  knew  it.     When 

[  20] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

sunstroke  or  pneumonia  or  nervous  prostration 
invaded  his  staff,  he  took  their  burdens  in  addition 
to  his  own,  to  save  them  their  salaries.  When  there 
was  protest  he  laughed  and  said,  "I  have  always 
been  able  to  do  the  work  of  any  four  men."  In 
emergencies  he  worked  holidays,  Sundays,  and 
evenings.  "Railroads  and  newspapers  never  rest," 
he  would  say.  The  Robinson  brothers  could  suifer 
and  keep  their  secret.  They  could  work  pallid 
and  faint,  and  give  no  sign.  When  time  had 
turned  his  curls  to  silver,  and  softly  uncovered 
the  massive  and  delicate  modelling  of  his  forehead, 
and  sickness  had  come  to  abide,  behind  his  brown 
eyes  the  spirit  of  his  youth  still  sang: 

"Nothing  is  too  bitter  for  my  high  heart." 

During  his  retirement  from  active  business 
he  kept  absorbed  with  scientific  interests  at 
home  and  abroad  through  learned  societies  to 
which  he  was  attached,  and  they  had  the  benefit 
of  his  correspondence.  University  Clubs  in  our 
great  cities  cherished  his  membership.  He  much 
enjoyed  his  association  with  the  civic  organizations 
of  his  own  State  and  city  where  he  met  intimate 
and  lifelong  friends.  Travel  and  books  refreshed 
him,  as  his  strength  slowly  ebbed  away.  A  guest 
saw  him  with  one  of  the  classics  open  upon  his 
knee,  then  Mr.  Robinson,  so  shy  and  incurably 
modest  to  the  end,  ventured  the  remark:  "The 
poets  take  too  much  time.    I  presume  railroad  men 

[  21   ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

are  almost  spoiled  for  literature.  We  get  trained 
to  think  and  speak  with  telegraphic  precision,  still 
I  am  sure  most  poets  take  too  long  to  tell  it. 
Poetry  to  justify  its  escape  from  prose  ought  to 
bite  and  sing  all  the  way,  like  a  steel  drill." 

Through  his  decline  his  household  was  sustained 
by  his  own  strength  and  poise.  When  the  final 
peace  came  to  him,  he  looked  as  beautiful  as  he 
was,  —  a  majestic  soul  received  into  radiant 
immortality.  In  the  Cathedral  Church,  beneath 
the  velvet  pall  with  his  own  orchids  above  him, 
he  was  statuesque.  Twenty  years  after  he  had 
left  their  road,  the  gentlemen  from  the  Santa  Fe 
offices  in  Topeka  had  given  him  a  memorable 
banquet,  at  which  he  was  overwhelmed  with 
aifection.  Now  the  army  of  men  all  down  the 
railway  lines  whom  he  had  trained  and  promoted 
mourned  for  him.  Always  to  them  he  was  "  Robin- 
son the  Superb."  He  was  carried  in  a  private 
car  to  his  own  mausoleum  at  Edgerton,  Wisconsin. 
One  of  his  old  friends  was  thinking  of  a  favorite 
marble  youth  in  the  Vatican,  from  an  antique 
altar.  It  is  described  by  Professor  Huxley  — 
"Fit  for  a  Temple,  because  it  proves  how  much 
finer  our  humanity  is  than  all  we  have  dreamed 
or  imagined." 

Hail,  beloved,  hail!    Farewell,  never! 

"Time  hath  no  lance  to  wound  thee." 


[    22    ] 


SOME  INCIDENTS 

Once  in  making  a  hurried  Atlantic  passage,  unex- 
pectedly he  found  that  Mark  Twain  occupied  the 
stateroom  opposite  his  own.  In  the  early  morning 
before  the  decks  were  washed,  Robinson,  wrapped  in 
his  ulster  and  carrying  his  favorite  instruments,  met 
Mark,  with  his  fluffy  hair  and  spotless  white  flannels, 
looking  like  a  puif  out  of  a  box.  Mark's  hand  was  out 
with  a  "How  do  you  do,"  as  if  they  had  always  known 
each  other.  "I  am  on  my  way  to  the  bridge  with  these 
old-fashioned  instruments,"  said  Robinson,  "to  see  if 
I  can  make  with  the  captain  an  accurate  nautical  obser- 
vation; he  doubts  if  I  can  do  it."  "Would  you  be 
willing  to  take  me  along,"  said  Mark.  "Yes,"  said 
Robinson  jokingly,  "if  you  will  get  on  something  warm 
over  those  night  duds  of  yours."  Robinson  satisfied 
himself,  also  the  captain.  During  the  rest  of  the  voyage 
he  and  Mark  entertained  themselves  "over  the  rail" 
estimating  the  distance  to  passing  vessels.  Mr.  Robin- 
son remarked  that  he  never  saw  a  mind  work  with 
such  lightning  rapidity  as  Mark  Twain's,  adding,  "Had 
I  ever  found  an  assistant  half  as  quick,  he  would  have 
gotten  ahead  of  me  and  taken  all  my  jobs." 


Forty  years  ago,  when  New  Orleans  struggled  under 
its  war  debts,  he  gave  drawings,  specifications,  and  esti- 
mates to  the  city,  for  a  series  of  double  crescent  levees 

[  23  ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

which  would  reinforce  the  natural  and  artificial  em- 
bankments. Thus  would  be  saved  the  richest  silt  of 
the  Continent  that  is  every  year  being  lost  in  the  Gulf. 
This  restored  soil  would  furnish  a  perfect  habitat  for 
hemp  and  fruit.  But  the  city  was  too  embarrassed  or 
too  short-sighted  to  avail  itself  of  his  generosity. 


At  one  of  the  dinners  in  England,  which  was  a  royal 
function,  a  lady  asked  Mrs.  Robinson  if  her  husband 
was  not  embarrassed  by  so  many  honors  and  ceremonies, 
and  she  received  the  reply:  "I  do  not  know  why  my 
husband  should  feel  embarrassment.  He  looks  as  well 
and  knows  as  much  as  any  of  them;  and  I  am  sure  he 
behaves  as  well." 


This  from  a  foreign  hotel.  "We  found  his  mineral 
water  on  our  dressers.  He  built  and  lighted  our  fires 
before  we  knew  we  needed  them.  When  we  were  off 
on  an  excursion  and  he  did  not  always  accompany 
us,  he  was  up  before  us,  out  in  the  cold,  examining  the 
buckles  and  leather,  making  sure  that  all  was  safe." 


From  a  promoted  train  hand:  "No  man  ever  got 
him,  but  he  sometimes  got  us.  I  remember  the  worst 
blizzard  of  the  Northwest.  I  got  to  be  station  master. 
The  heavy  express  had  a  new  engineer.  'Twas  late. 
The  storm  was  thick.    There  was  a  heavy  grade  ahead 

[  24] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

—  the  worst  on  the  line.  Mr.  Robinson  comes  down 
my  platform  brisk,  looking  the  wheels  over  like  his  way 
was,  jaunty-like.  Then  he  squinted  the  engine  over. 
Quick  as  a  wink  he  tosses  up  a  hand,  and  shouts  into  the 
cab,  "You  throw  out  that  half  bottle  of  whiskey  to  me 

—  you've  got  it  there  under  your  cushion."  But  the 
critter  fumbled  with  his  levers,  and  began  oiling, 
clever-like.  The  general  manager  shouted  up  again, 
"  Send  out  that  whiskey,"  and  out  it  came,  and  Mr. 
Robinson  caught  it  like  a  toy.  "Now  send  out  that 
full  bottle  behind  your  flange."  Quick  and  hard,  out  it 
came.  I  thought  it  was  going  to  smash  his  head,  but  he 
caught  it  on  the  fly,  and  trudged  into  my  place.  It 
wasn't  my  business,  but  I  heard-  myself  say,  "You 
knew  he  was  a  drinking  man."  "No,  but  I  had  to  find 
out.  It  is  a  bad  night."  All  civil,  but  his  eyes  flashed 
into  my* coal  hod.  There  was  peelin's  and  paper  in  it. 
Then  he  traipsed  out  into  my  telegraph  office,  hugging 
the  bottles  unnatural  like.  My  two  stoves  were  not 
blacked  up  very  smart;  but  nobody  ever  twitted  me 
over  it  again.  I  thought  my  station  would  blow  down 
the  gulch  before  morning  got  there." 


Every  heart  that  cherishes  him  is  tender  with 
reminiscence.  His  bounty  was  scattered  from  Boston 
to  Vera  Cruz;   from  Chicago  to  San  Francisco. 

A  cousin  writes:  "Do  you  remember  the  grapes 
that  were  spilled  and  forgotten  when  we  took 
dinner  in  the  kitchen  of  the  little  wood-colored  house 
on  the  hill.^  We  went  out  to  enjoy  the  view.  He  stayed 
behind,  and  picked  up  every  grape  under  the  table 
and  chairs.     They  rolled  behind  the  flounce  of  the 

[   25   ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

home-made  lounge.  They  were  under  the  stove,  but  not 
one  remained  to  stain  the  spotless  floor  our  feeble 
hostess  has  scrubbed  white  all  her  life  long." 


From  "Jack,"  a  porter:  "None  ob  de  beasts  out  on 
de  prairie  ever  dast  tech  him.  Soon  as  dey  see  his 
cap,  dey  takes  to  dair  heels  mighty  quick."  Grafters 
and  imposters  must  have  had  a  similar  experience. 


This  is  from  a  minister:  "His  scientific,  sympathetic 
care  of  men  was  even  more  remarkable  than  his  own 
endurance.  Men  idolized  him  because  they  could  trust 
him,  and  he  never  failed  them." 


This  was  overheard  from  him  concerning  another 
profession.  "Ministers  do  the  most  difficult  thing  in 
the  world,  and  each  year  they  contrive  to  live,  it  grows 
harder  for  them." 


26 


SOME  TRIBUTES 

From  the  Lynn  ///m,  Massachusetts: 

.  .  .  He  became  President  of  the  Mexican  Central 
Railroad  in  May,  1893,  and  resigned  in  1906.  During 
that  time  the  track  grew  from  1,800  to  3,400  miles  and 
its  condition  was  vastly  improved.  Mr.  Robinson  was 
identified  with  many  interests  in  Mexico,  being  a 
director  in  banks  and  an  investor  in  many  enterprises. 
Many  of  these  were  promoted  as  feeders  to  the  Mexican 
Central.  Development  of  the  port  of  Tampico  was  one 
of  his  great  achievements.  As  an  expert  in  railroad 
affairs  his  advice  was  often  sought.  .  .  . 


From  the  Galveston  News: 

Our  Island  City  has  lost  a  valued  and  old  time 
friend  in  the  death  of  Albert  Robinson,  the  brilliant 
authority  in  railroad  and  harbor  engineering.  .  .  . 
We  were  a  "feeble  folk"  when  he  selected  us  for  his 
port  city.  He  chose  us  for  the  terminus  of  the  Southern 
branch  of  the  road  he  represented  against  an  abusive 
opposition.  Our  bankers  have  grown  rich  with  the 
traffic  of  the  Southwest  which  he  brought  to  our  gates. 
During  his  long  service  with  the  Santa  Fe,  he  warned 
our  city  against  its  indifference  to  danger  from  tidal 
disturbance.  He  reminded  us  that  we  were  two  miles 
out  from  the  mainland  and  were  in  the  tropical  and 
volcanic  zone  of  danger.  He  taught  us  that  Venice 
would  not  have  survived  the  middle  ages  without  her 
Lido,  but  would  have  been  pounded  to  wreckage  by  the 
Adriatic.  But  we  built  no  new  breakwater,  and  we 
suffered  our  disaster. 

[    27    ] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

From  the  Canon  City  Daily  Record^  Colorado: 

He  was  at  one  time  chief  engineer,  vice  president, 
and  general  manager  of  the  Atchison,  Topeka  &  Santa 
Fe  Railroad  Company,  and  was  supervisor  of  the 
construction  of  the  main  lines  of  that  great  transporta- 
tion system.  By  reason  of  his  thoroughness  and  effi- 
ciency as  an  engineer,  the  Santa  Fe  road  was  built  in 
the  most  substantial  manner  and  at  a  minimum  ex- 
penditure. .  .  .  His  skill  and  ability  as  a  financier 
were  of  signal  service  to  the  Santa  Fe  company,  and 
was  of  inestimable  value  in  the  development  of  the 
West.  .  .  .  The  people  of  Canon  City  hold  him  in 
kindly  remembrance  for  his  marked  discretion  in  the 
management  of  the  Santa  Fe  company's  interest,  and 
in  the  avoidance  of  bloodshed  at  the  time  of  the  con- 
troversy for  the  right  of  way  through  the  Royal  Gorge 
known  as  the  "Grand  Canon  War,"  when  1,700  men 
were  employed  by  a  rival  company  for  patrol  duty 
along  its  course.  Mr.  Robinson  played  a  distinguished 
and  conspicuous  part  in  the  "Winning  of  the  West." 


From  the  Railroad  Review j  Chicago,  Ills. : 

Mr.  Robinson  was  educated  at  Milton,  Wisconsin, 
Academy,  and  the  University  of  Michigan,  receiving 
the  degree  of  civil  engineer  in  1869;  the  degree  of 
Bachelor  of  Science  and  Master  of  Science  in  1870  and 
1871 ;  the  honorary  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws  in  1900. 
In  his  phenomenal  record  as  builder  and  administrator, 
this  official  item  is  reported:  "On  the  Pueblo  and 
Denver  line,  116  miles  in  216  days  were  constructed; 
and  in  the  Kansas  City  and  Chicago  line,  360  miles 
in  276  days  were  finished.  The  latter  achievement 
embraced  permanent  bridges  across  the  Missouri, 
Mississippi,  Des  Moines,  and  Illinois  Rivers." 

r  28  1 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

From  the   Engineering  Record^  New  York  City: 

Mr.  Robinson  was  prodigal  of  his  energy  and  atten- 
tion. Every  town  and  city  on  the  Santa  Fe  System, 
from  intricate  terminals  to  the  least  insignificant  village 
yards,  bears  his  personal  impress.  He  was  a  member 
of  many  learned  societies.  .  .  .  When  Mr.  Robinson 
was  first  employed  by  the  Santa  Fe,  that  line  consisted 
of  a  mere  hundred  miles  of  rails.  When  he  left  the  road 
as  General  Manager  and  Vice-President,  twenty-two 
years  later,  it  had  grown  into  a  system  of  more  than 
nine  thousand  miles. 


From  Boy  Scout  Items: 

He  was  a  "lightning  calculator"  in  astronomical  field 
work;  in  the  knack  .of  making  instantaneous  pre- 
liminary estimates  he  was  ranked  with  minds  like 
Napoleon.  .  .  .  Through  a  long  life  he  never  indulged 
in  tobacco  or  alcohol  in  any  form.  He  was  a  faultless 
listener,  always  fair  and  open  to  complaints.  His 
equanimity  was  proof  against  harrowing  excitements 
and  distressing  delays.  The  art  of  giving  directions 
was  his  and  each  command  was  clear,  comprehensive, 
consecutive,  and  complete.  His  personal  polish  in  the 
far  West  was  a  protection  among  prospectors,  pro- 
moters, land-grabbers,  and  temporizing  legislators. 
Brawls  over  disputed  claims  among  squatters  and 
human  scavengers  furnish  materials  for  dangerous 
vicissitudes;  but  he  lived  a  charmed  life.  .  .  .  His 
technical  library  is  given  to  Washburn  College.  He 
was  an  ideal  captain  for  boys  and  men;  a  master  scout 
on  a  great  "hike"  in  a  heroic  period;  a  nobleman  from 
every  angle;  a  true  knight,  without  fear  and  without 
reproach. 

[29] 


ALBERT  ALONZO  ROBINSON 

From  the  Kansas  City  Journal: 

With  at  times  more  than  fifty  thousand  men  under 
his  command,  and  spending  millions  upon  millions  of 
dollars  for  the  men  he  represented,  he  never  failed  to  be 
fair,  and  no  man  ever  questioned  the  absolute  integrity 
of  any  act.  Every  mile  of  road  he  ever  built  —  whether 
for  the  Santa  Fe  or  the  Mexican  Central,  of  which  he 
became  president  —  was  built  according  to  his  prefer- 
ence, without  his  bond  and  subject  to  his  option  as  to 
change  and  modification,  and  with  the  understanding 
on  both  sides  that  whatever  he  thought  was  fair  should 
prevail.  The  history  of  such  men  —  powerful,  far- 
sighted,  rigidly  honest,  modest,  kindly,  and  gentle  — 
is  the  best  history  to  which  the  youth  of  the  land  can 
be  directed.  ... 


From  the  London  Lancet: 

When  Sir  Ernest  Castle  made  official  financial 
estimates  for  the  Nile  Dam  in  Egypt,  he  sent  for  Mr. 
A.  A.  Robinson,  the  greatest  living  authority  on 
Desert  Topography  and  Water  Ways,  and  together 
they  accomplished  that  stupendous  engineering  feat 
which  restored  to  arable  land  the  Southern  African 
desert 


[  30] 


''"'Xl' 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


